


All My Loves

by pterawaters



Series: All My Loves [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Druid!Stiles, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Magic, Multi, Teen Wolf Big Bang, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles figured the mission would be difficult. There was only one person Deaton knew of who could save Derek's life, but that man - Druid Bruce Monroe - hated Deaton with a passion. Getting into Bruce's good graces would take more than a few lies and a well-placed grin. He, Scott, and Allison would have to go undercover as a married triad, just to get the druid to talk to them. Stiles figured the hardest part of the mission would be keeping their true identities a secret. Boy, was he wrong. It turns out the hardest part is remembering that it's all pretend, and that Stiles isn't supposed to be in love with two of his best friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All My Loves

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entry in the [2013 Teen Wolf Big Bang](http://teenwolf-bb.livejournal.com/)! Many thanks to my beta-readers, [agentsofbeaconhills](http://agentsofbeaconhills.tumblr.com/) and especially [raving_liberal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal). You guys made this story much better than it otherwise would have been!
> 
> And, of course, a million thank yous to my artist, [Narya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Narya/pseuds/Narya)! She's absolutely amazing and went completely above and beyond in producing art for my silly little fic. The complete archive of her work can be found in her [masterpost here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1052453). I highly encourage you to check out her other work, too! It's fantastic.

Stiles tapped on Derek's nose and a hollow sound echoed through the loft. "Yep, he's definitely petrified. And not in the scaredy-cat way. Derek has _literally_ turned to stone." Looking at the people around him Stiles added, "Well, with that chiseled jaw, it was only a matter of time, am I right?"

Nobody laughed. Bunch of ingrates. 

"D-man?" Stiles asked, turning to Deaton, who frowned. Stiles cleared his throat. "Uh, Dr. Deaton? Any thoughts?"

"Is he dead?" Allison asked, sounding both saddened and a little giddy. Stiles wasn't quite sure how she pulled that one off.

Leaning forward, Stiles inspected the Derek statue, which was frozen mid-swing with teeth and claws bared, like Derek had been fighting his attacker when this happened. It gave Stiles a little thrill of terror whenever he looked at it. All that power halted just like that. Frozen like time had stopped just for Derek. And then crusted him in a layer of rock.

"Technically, yes," Deaton said in what Stiles referred to as Deaton's "thinking voice." "His heart isn't beating, but that's because it's made of stone. All of his cells are made of stone."

"Would that hurt?" Scott asked, stepping closer to get his own look. Stiles fell back to observe, standing by Lydia and crossing his arms over his chest.

Deaton hummed a few times and then told Scott, "No, I don't think it would. Maybe in the first second or two, but right now, Derek is incapable of feeling pain."

"So…he's _dead_ ," Lydia clarified, pointing at the statue. "No pulse, no breath rate, no brain activity. He's dead."

"Technically." Deaton's careful tone suggested there was more to the story.

"Technically, like there's no hope?" Scott asked before Stiles could get to it. "Or, technically, like there's something we can do to bring him back?"

Frowning, Deaton sighed again. He crossed one arm over his chest and put the other hand up to his chin. While Stiles held his breath, waiting for Deaton to say _something_ , the Druid pointed to Derek and opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but then he closed his mouth, shook his head, and put his hand back to his chin. Stiles let out his breath in a scoff. Deaton gave Stiles a raised eyebrow before addressing Scott. "There might be something we could do. It's just…"

Scott stepped closer to Deaton, giving him the full-blown puppy eyes and the concerned voice. "What is it?"

Deaton shook his head quickly, took a sharp breath, and focused on Scott. "It's just that I only know one person versed in this type of spell, and he and I had somewhat of a—a falling out, you could say."

"Could he have been the one who did this?" Allison asked, eyes intent on the Derek statue.

"No," Deaton scoffed, the edges of his lips turning upward. "No, he'd never hurt a fly."

"Then why don't we just call him up and ask him how to cure Derek?" Isaac asked, appearing from the shadows. Lydia startled and Stiles about jumped out of his skin, but nobody else blinked. God, it could suck so much being the only one in the room without super hearing or awesome hunter skills.

"Is he, like, a Darach, or something?" Stiles poked at the Derek statue again, just making sure it was still as solid as it looked.

"No, no," Deaton insisted. "We had a difference of opinion about… well, about _faith_. And I—"

The way Deaton tilted his head, shrugged one shoulder, and smiled nervously impelled Stiles to interrupt. "Oh, my god. It was about a girl, wasn't it?"

"Not—not exactly." Was Deaton blushing? It was hard to tell, but his cheeks might have been redder. "The _point_ is that he's not going to give the information to me, or anyone he thinks is associated with me."

"Does he know about our pack? That you're our emissary?"

"I doubt it. He and his people tend to be very insular."

"So, like, _I_ could go there and ask for his help?" Scott asked.

"It's not that simple. When I say insular, I mean _cut off_ from everyone. The only way you'd be _able_ to get close enough to talk to him is if Bruce knows you're coming and knows you're…" Deaton paused, looking around the room, his eyes lighting up. He tamped down the expression and cleared his throat before continuing, "…shall we say _like-minded_."

"Well," Lydia said, resting on the Derek statue like he were a wall or a pillar. "Someone will just have to pretend to be like-minded. I'm up for an adventure!"

"No, not you." Deaton ignored Lydia's scoff of protestation and turned to face Stiles. "You. The Druid." 

"Wait, what?" Stiles asked. "I'm _what_."

Deaton nodded to Allison next, "And you, the hunter."

"Allison can go, but I can't?" Lydia rolled her eyes and lightly stomped her foot.

Deaton gave Lydia a meaningful look, but then turned to Scott, "And you, Scott, for the werewolf side of things. A perfect triad. Hunter, Druid, Werewolf."

Eyes cutting over to Derek and then back to Deaton's, Scott asked, "Why three? I don't want to leave anyone here. We should all go together."

"Scott." Deaton's fond exasperation was familiar to Stiles. "Part of my falling out with Bruce had to do with his religious beliefs."

"Druidism?" Stiles asked. "Druid-tian. Druidisticism? Oh, God. He isn't a Scientologist or Mormon or anything, is he?"

"Yes, he's a Druid," Deaton said. "But he's part of a fairly off–the–wall sect. Now, as you know very well, Druids heavily believe in the power of three. This sect takes the belief a step further. They believe that people are meant to be in relationships of three people – that it provides a certain balance not only to the individuals' lives, but to the universe. That, combined with the role Druids play in werewolf packs, has led to the belief in a ‘perfect’ triad – Druid, werewolf, and hunter. All three sides of the equation, living in peaceful harmony."

"That sounds like a load of—" Stiles said, but he cut himself off before he actually said the word. "Anyway, so I'm the Druid— in training, I guess, so they won't expect _too_ much of me."

"And I'm the hunter." Allison stepped up to stand even with Stiles. "And Scott is the werewolf. And we're supposed to pretend to be, what? In some sort of relationship?"

"Exactly." Deaton sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "I can have a friend of a friend tell Bruce to look for you, but you—all three of you—are going to have to look and feel the part, or Bruce is going to see right through you and Derek will remain a statue forever."

Stiles looked over at Scott. He didn't have any problems making out with Scott or Allison or anyone. Scott was a different story. He was 100% straight. "Dude, tell me seriously," Stiles pointed to himself, in a general sense. "Are you ready for this jelly?"

Scott groaned, Allison laughed, and Deaton clapped his hands. "Okay, let's start preparing."

Stiles may have graduated high school a month ago, but that didn't make getting his dad to let him go on a last-minute trip much easier. Eventually he managed to bribe his way into the trip by bringing a chocolate lava cake to the Sheriff Station. The few hours that cake were going to shave off the Sheriff's lifespan had better be worth it. He told his father he and Scott and Allison were going camping, because even if Dad knew about werewolves, he didn't have to know about Stiles going undercover as part of some weird three-person marriage.

Before driving to the farm where Deaton's former friend, Bruce Monroe, lived, Stiles made sure he wore exactly the right clothes to get past whatever guards Bruce had in place. He made sure his talismans were all lined up, and he wasn't wearing steel at all (goodbye non-existent belly ring), and that he smelled like just the right amount of holly berries (Snort. Holly berry.).

They approached the Druid's territory carefully, driving slowly, with Scott at the wheel in case they needed his super reflexes to avoid getting crushed by one of the giant trees lining the driveway. Stiles noted that they were all oak trees. Fitting.

"It'll be fine," Stiles said from the back seat, having sacrificed shotgun to Allison, like the knight in shining armor he totally was. "Deaton told us everything we need to know. We get in, make a big show of all being together, get the info, and get out. Easy-peasy."

"Yeah, I doubt it's going to be that easy, Stiles. You heard what Deaton said about how crazy this guy is. We might be in some serious danger if he starts doubting we're who we say we are."

"The same guy Deaton insisted wouldn't hurt a fly? Well, I'm not gonna give him any reason to doubt," Stiles insisted. "What about you, Scott? You gonna be my devoted werewolf husband?"

Scott sighed. "At least I already know everything about you. Allison's going to have a hard time with the trivia."

"Please," Allison scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You talk about Stiles all the time, Scott. I know enough. Just stick to the story. You two were best friends, I came into the picture about a year ago, when my Mom— well, when she died and I started leading my family's hunters. And we're not Argents, we're Smiths. I'm Allison Smith."

"You were," Scott said with a smile, though he kept his eyes on the road. "Now you're Allison Hooper."

"I still hate that name," Stiles said. "And I don't care what anyone says, I don't look like a Dave!"

"You could use your real first name." Allison turned around in her seat to grin at Stiles, which he didn't appreciate. "Like Scott and I are."

"I'll stick with Dave, thanks." Stiles leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a conspiracy to figure out his first name. It had to be. 

"Aw, Davey-wavey, don't be like that!" Scott cried, meeting Stiles' eyes in the rearview. "You know we love you, whatever your name is!"

"I will turn this car around, Mister!" Stiles insisted, even though he wasn't driving. Mostly he was joking, but a little part of him wanted to do it, to punish Scott and Allison for making fun of him. God, he hoped this whole trip wasn't going to be Scott and Allison ganging up on him.

Allison and Scott laughed, but neither of them continued the conversation. As they approached a gate across the road, Scott asked, "Any last words?"

"Tell my Dad I love him," Stiles replied, off hand. The closer they came to the gate, the more uneasy Stiles felt. "Do you guys…?"

"Yeah," Scott said, stopping the car and throwing it into park. "Yeah, I feel it."

Allison turned to look back at Stiles, "Feel what?"

Squirming in his seat, Stiles nodded at the gate. "It really doesn't want us to get any closer. It's almost like…" Stiles concentrated on the gate, trying to see the currents of power running through it like Deaton had taught him. A sudden rapping on the window made Stiles jump out of his skin, "Oh, Jesus!"

There was a woman standing outside the car, her long, black hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her skin was light brown and she wore a low-cut tan dress and big, feathered earrings. Stiles guessed she was about thirty, and her bright, friendly smile made him feel a little less freaked out. Through the glass, she said, "I hope you take that name in vain. We worship only the old gods here!"

Oh, God. That was a hint of the crazy eyes in her face, wasn't it? Stiles got out of the car on the opposite side and leaned on the roof, looking over it at the woman. "Yeah, totally in vain. Just a habit I picked up from my dad, really."

The crazy eyes faded back into a warm, welcoming expression as Scott and Allison got out of the car. "You must be the Hoopers." She opened her arms and drew Scott, who was closest to her, into what looked like a very tight hug, her eyes flashing yellow. Deaton had warned them that Bruce associated with werewolves. "I'm Patty. Patty Monroe, Bruce's wife."

"Uh, hey, Patty," Scott said, giving her a few pats on the back like he didn't actually want to hug her.

Stiles grinned as he rounded the car to join Scott, only to be pulled into his own tight hug. That was a lot of boob pressed against his chest, no doubt about it. "And you must be David, the Druid in training."

"That's me!" Stiles choked out as best he could while being strangled by the boa constrictor of a woman. 

Then Patty released Stiles, who staggered until Scott caught him and put an arm around his waist (probably more for support than as part of the ruse, but two birds). Allison approached and Patty held out her hand for a shake. Allison's brows furrowed, but she smiled and didn't hesitate to take the woman's hand and shake it. "Allison Hooper. It's nice to meet you."

"The hunter," Patty said, looking Allison up and down with what looked like a repressed sneer. "We walk from here."

"How far—" Stiles started to ask, but when the other three gave him looks like he was crazy for asking, Stiles dropped it. Instead, he grabbed his and Allison's bags from the car and said, "Lead the way."

With a "thanks, honey" and a kiss on his cheek, Allison took her bag and followed Patty around the gate and down the path beyond.

Stiles had an uneasy feeling about the situation, but he didn't voice it. Not with an unfamiliar werewolf in the area. 

The wooded area thinned to just one oak here and there amidst a field full of long, yellow grass. Stiles leaned as close to Scott as he could with their bags in the way and said, "So far, so good." Then Stiles took a step forward and slung his bag across his body by the long strap over one shoulder so it rested at the small of his back.

Scott did the same, and then smiled and took one of Stiles' hands in his. It was weird. Stiles knew that holding hands was something friends did, but it had never been something he and Scott did for longer than it took to pull the other toward wherever they needed to be. They were much more prone to tight hugs and playful fighting and accidentally falling asleep on top of one another. Holding hands now made Stiles nervous, and his palm started to sweat, which couldn't have been nice on Scott's end of things.

But if he and Scott were married, they'd have gotten used to holding hands, wouldn't they? Stiles wouldn't be nervous about the simple act. And he really shouldn't have been twice as nervous when Allison took his other hand. Stiles took a deep, calming breath to steady his nerves.

At the other end of the field, down what had to be close to a mile of driveway, sat a cluster of buildings. One looked like a barn, one was obviously a house, but Stiles had no idea what the two smaller buildings could be. Farm-ish things, he supposed.

Patty lead them to the house. It was a squat ranch-style house with a narrow, concrete porch that had a bench wide enough for three people. Currently, there were two people sitting there. One was a moderately heavy-set man who looked like he was about Deaton's age, with white skin and graying brown hair. The other was a woman who looked like she could have been twice as tall as the man; her hair was dark red, almost blood-colored, and her face looked kind. 

Scott squeezed Stiles' hand much harder than he'd been holding it on the walk to the house and stepped half in front of Stiles as the pair stood up.

"You must be the Hoopers," the man said, stepping down from the porch and offering his hand directly to Stiles, nevermind that both of his hands were currently occupied. He didn't want to appear rude, so Stiles freed his right hand from Allison's grip and took the man's hand. "I'm Bruce Morgan. Happy to meet a fellow _believer_." The man grinned and gave Scott a glance before looking Allison up and down appreciatively. 

"Yeah, you too," Stiles said, making sure his handshake was nice and firm, without being overly strong. "You can probably guess from what Harry told you, but I'm Dave, and this is my wife, Allison." Letting go of Bruce's hand, Stiles put his arm around Allison's waist, pulling her close and trying not to look surprised when she set her head on his shoulder. "And this is our husband, Scott." God, that felt freaking weird to say out loud.

Bruce took one of Allison's hands and kissed it. "I have a soft spot in my heart for the Smiths. Ivy and I," he gestured to the tall woman behind him, "even dated a Smith before we found Patty." Bruce raised his eyebrows at Allison expectantly, and Stiles had to fight not to cringe. They were going to be found out in the first five minutes, weren't they? Derek was going to be a statue forever. 

Allison laughed and said, "You did? Oh my god, my parents never tell me any of the interesting parts of the family history. It's all _duty_ , and _honor_ , and _The Code_!" She shot Scott a look and asked, "Did it not go well? Is that why my parents were so upset when I started dating Scott?"

Scott chimed in, "Her mom even tried to kill me. It was bad!"

Bruce laughed, obviously put at ease by the story. "These families of ours can be burdensome, can't they?" He turned toward Stiles. "Hooper… I can't say I can think of any other Hoopers in our circle. Did you take your husband's name?" He made a little moue of distaste, like Stiles taking Scott's name would be laughable.

"Uh, no," Stiles said, jerking his head toward Scott. "But sometimes you spend enough time around one of these guys and some of the magic rubs off. I started training with my mentor, Tisha Mdambe, during high school." Stiles hated having to drop the name of a person he'd never met, but it wasn't like he could tell the truth. Bruce hated Deaton. Using the name of Deaton's friend was the only way to pull this off.

"Ah, Tisha," Bruce said with a chuckle, waving Ivy closer and putting his arm around her waist. Stiles felt Scott tense up next to him, and it occurred to him that Ivy must be the alpha werewolf Deaton told them about. "Tisha has odd ways of teaching. It's no wonder you couldn't unpetrify your unfortunate friend."

"So you _do_ know the spell?" Allison asked, and Stiles cringed. Deaton had warned him that Bruce could be a little touchy. In Stiles' experience, touchy people had to be treated very carefully. Bluntly asking for things was how you got shut down before you even started.

To Stiles' relief, Bruce laughed. "Trust a hunter to pierce to the heart of the matter, eh?"

Stiles gave Allison what he hoped was a fond smile and said, "That's our wife. Really keeps us on our toes!"

"You're so lucky," Bruce sighed, smiling at the three of them. "Such a perfect triad. I mean, I love both of my wives dearly, but the fact that we've got two wolves and no hunters eats away at my heart sometimes, you know? I almost can't believe you three found each other so young!"

Trying like hell to keep his heartbeat steady, Stiles chuckled. "I can hardly believe it myself!"

Bruce waved them closer and said, "Come in! Come in. Let's get you settled and we'll talk about this friend of yours."

Stiles didn't allow himself a sigh of relief, but he did let himself breathe out slowly. It felt like they'd passed the first test, like he'd managed to talk himself out of trouble, except they probably still had days to go before Stiles was proficient enough in the spell that they could go home. He followed as first Scott, then Allison went into the house, Patty at his back.

The house was a little dark, despite the sun still bright in the windows of the front room. A hallway branched off one way and had several doors that Stiles guessed were bedrooms. Opposite the front door was an archway, with what looked like a kitchen table below another set of windows beyond. 

The alpha, Ivy, turned and snapped at Patty, who edged around Stiles and pointed toward the hallway. "You'll be down here in the guest room." She went to the first door on the left and opened it, letting the three of them go in ahead of her. It was about as big as Stiles' room at his dad's house, but there was a king-sized bed and a dresser crammed into it, which didn't leave much space for walking around. On one of the walls, there were two doors – one had to be a closet. Pointing to the other, Stiles asked, "Bathroom?"

"Yeah," Patty said, stepping further into the room. "When we were looking at houses to build here, I insisted on having a bathroom off the guest room. I mean, I know I hate having to encroach on someone else's territory as it is, you know?"

"Uh, thanks," Scott said, setting his bag down on the bed and taking Allison's. "That was really thoughtful of you."

Patty grinned. "I know! Now, leave your things and I'll give you the full tour."

Stiles was a little startled when Scott kissed his cheek as he passed back out into the hallway, but he remembered to keep acting like it was normal. Like being married to his best friend and his other good friend at the same time was anything approaching normal!

Patty showed them around the house, gave them all drinks in the kitchen, and then lead the way down a set of stairs into the basement. "Bruce and Ivy should be down here."

_God, I hope this isn't a sex dungeon_ , Stiles thought as he followed the others. He really didn't want to know what Bruce and Ivy, and Patty he guessed too, looked like when they had sex. He'd only had sex once so far in his life, and it had been pity sex with Danny at Lydia's graduation party – with Stiles as the guy–to–be–pitied.

The basement looked more like the back room of Deaton's vet office than a sex dungeon. It had lots of jars along one wall, a work table in the middle of the room, and a bunch of plants hanging under a bright grow light in the corner. Bruce and Ivy stood next to the table, a heavy book open in front of Bruce. "Ah, Dave," Bruce said, waving Stiles over. "Now, it's very important that we figure out exactly which spell your friend was hit with. Otherwise whatever we do to reverse it will just make things worse."

"Sounds great," Stiles said, stepping up to the table. He felt more than saw Allison and Scott standing together behind and to the left of him and he sort of felt the urge to edge closer to them. Except, he was supposed to be the one in charge here. Bruce sure seemed to be in charge of _his_ family, even though one of his wives was a freaking _alpha werewolf_. It kind of really skeeved Stiles out. He still sort of remembered what his parents had been like together before his mom died. Neither one of them had been in charge. Sometimes Mom gave the orders and sometimes Dad did, but they were a team. Bruce and his wives sure didn't seem like a team.

"Now," Bruce said, turning back a few pages and then rotating the book so Stiles could see it. The picture on the left-hand page showed one figure, with another weeping at its feet. The text around the drawing meant nothing to Stiles as it was in some weird alphabet that Deaton certainly hadn't taught him. "What kind of rock was your friend turned into? Was it marble?" He tapped on the drawing, like it was obvious the standing figure was made of marble.

Remembering the scratchy, grainy feel and the gray color of the Derek-statue, Stiles shook his head. "No it was beigeish-grayish and very grainy. Sandy."

"Hmm." Bruce flipped pages and read for a moment. The letters on this page were more standard and Stiles was surprised that he actually recognized a lot of the words. Studying ancient Latin had actually paid off for once. "Sandy. Like limestone?"

"Sure," Stiles said with a shrug. He couldn't have told limestone from a random hole in the ground, so he wasn't going to argue the point. 

"Of course, it could also have been _sandstone_ …" Bruce trailed off, flipping through his book again.

"I have a picture, if it helps," Allison said, and the three Morgans all raised their eyebrows at her. Apparently they hadn't expected the hunter to actually, you know, _help_. It struck Stiles as sort of similar to the way some people looked at his dad askance when he held open the door to the diner for them, or when he stopped to help someone change their tire. People had this expectation that the Sheriff wasn't there to help – he was there to bust people, even if they weren't doing anything wrong. Stiles hated that look.

Giving Allison a bright smile, Stiles leaned over and kissed her on the lips. "Thanks, babe." Then he turned to Bruce and said, "I don't know what we'd do without her. Scott and I are pretty useless on our own." He smiled back at Scott and watched the stunned expression snap into a fond smile. God, he hoped Scott wasn't going to kill him for kissing Allison. The whole point of this was to make the relationship believable, right?

Bruce nodded and took the phone from Allison, squinting at the picture. Eventually, he pulled a pair of glasses out of his pants and put them on. He poked at the screen of Allison's phone a few times before saying, "Hmm. It's hard to say without being able to touch the rock, but this looks more like limestone to me."

"Is that a good thing?" Scott asked, slipping his hand onto Stiles' shoulder. Stiles was surprised by how normal the touch felt. 

Still frowning at the picture and his book simultaneously, Bruce said, "No. If your friend had been turned to marble, or even glass, I could have helped you. Limestone, though. That's tough."

"Wait, you _don't_ know the spell?" Allison asked, and Stiles reached out to her, holding her back so maybe she'd tone down on the accusations. 

"Not exactly," Bruce said with a frown, handing Allison's phone back to Stiles. "I'm more familiar with other sorts of immobilization rituals." Stiles got a weird mental image of Bruce and Ivy tying up Patty, and he really didn't need that mental image at the moment. 

"It's fine," Stiles insisted, handing Allison back her phone and then putting himself in front of her. "We'll just look for more information, right?" Stiles reached for the book, but froze when Bruce slid it away from him.

"I'll look for more information. Why don't you three help Patty with dinner?"

Stiles' mouth fell open a little bit. He didn't know what to say. He was, like, researcher extraordinaire. He understood most of the language in the book, something no one else but Bruce could do. He could be helpful. Then again, it had taken Deaton pulling some major strings and a giant lie to get them in this sort in the first place. If they were ever going to unstick Derek, it had to be Bruce's way.

"That sounds good," Scott said, and it was his tug on Stiles' shoulder that changed Stiles' mind. 

"Yeah, no. That sounds great. We'll go help with dinner and leave you to it."

Bruce nodded tightly, but gave Stiles a smile, and Stiles heard the way Bruce exhaled loudly when Stiles followed Allison and Scott up the stairs. What the hell was so important that Stiles couldn't find out about it? What, was the next page of the book Bruce's private porn stash or something?

When they reached the kitchen, Patty stood at the peninsula counter, chopping vegetables. Ivy sat on the other side of the counter, watching Patty work. Stiles wondered if the Monroe house always ran this way, and how much of Ivy's inaction had to do with the fact that she was an alpha werewolf. 

Scott broke the ice when he asked, “So, what are we having and how can I help?”

Patty smiled and began to reply, but snapped her mouth shut suddenly. Stiles followed her line of sight to Ivy, who had her nose turned up like she smelled something foul. As he was wont to do when dealing with persnickety werewolves, Stiles automatically blamed Ivy’s disgust on crazy werewolf rules of etiquette. 

“Well, I—” Stiles began to say, but Ivy interrupted him.

“Allison? Why don’t you help Patty with the food? The boys can help me set the table.”

Scott winced, and Stiles drew a worried breath through his teeth. There were many things Allison was good at, but cooking was not one of them. The last time she’d tried to make anything in the kitchen, she’d mistaken the industrial-sized tub of baking soda Stiles’ mom had bought decades ago (and which Stiles had brought over to Scott’s house as a cleaning supply after the blue face paint incident) for flour. Nothing blew up, but there weren’t any tasty cakes coming out of that incident either. 

Scott, on the other hand, was practically a master chef, especially now that he was super good at smelling things. Stiles liked to tease him with the movie _Ratatouille_ , but Scott didn’t seem to mind the ribbing. “It’s a gift!” he would say.

“So,” Ivy said as they passed from the kitchen to the dining room, which held a large, but worn-looking, wooden table. “David, would you like to sit at this end of the table?” She laid her hand on the back of a chair sitting on one of the short ends of the table. Each of the long ends held two chairs, and the opposite end had this ridiculous looking throne of a dining chair. Obviously, that one belonged to Bruce.

“Sure,” Stiles said. “Sounds good. So what, are we supposed to lay out silverware and stuff? At home, Dad and I mostly just eat in front of the TV.”

Scott took Stiles’ hand and squeezed it before putting his back to Ivy for half a second and widening his eyes. Shit, what did Stiles say? He— Oh, crap. He mentioned living with his dad!

Quickly, Stiles said, “I mean, that’s what I used to do, before we got married. Now, Allison makes us sit at the table.”

“ _Allison’s_ usually the one in charge of setting the table,” Scott explained, giving Ivy a wide smile. “Dave and I do the cooking.”

“How _progressive_.” Ivy blinked once, slowly, and then approached a cupboard at the side of the room. “One placemat at each seat, one large plate per placemat, one small plate, one wine glass, one water glass. D’you think you boys can handle that while I go check on Bruce?”

“Sure!” Stiles swung his hand, which was still grasped in Scott’s, back and forth, trying to look casual. “Yeah, we can totally do that.”

After Ivy left, Stiles let go of Scott’s hand, mouthing, “She hates us.”

“Be nice, St—sweetie,” Scott replied, reaching past stiles for a stack of dark red placemats and making a sour face. “We’re guests here, after all.”

“Yeah, and hopefully we won’t end up killing them with Allison’s cooking.” Stiles grinned and Scott covered his mouth, laughing softly behind it. “Can you smell what it’s supposed to be?”

“Chicken of some sort, I think,” Scott replied, pressing the stack of placemats to Stiles’ chest before grabbing a stack of plates. “It smells a little different this fresh.”

“Fresh, like…” Stiles began setting a placemat down in front of each chair.

“Like still bloody,” Scott replied. “You didn’t hear the chicken coop out back?”

“They weren’t that loud, _snookums_.” Stiles chuckled at Scott’s weirded-out grimace. “Some of us still have human ears.”

“Sorry, _darling_. Sometimes I forget.”

“Hey,” Allison said, entering the room. “Patty banned me from the kitchen already.” She took the plates from Scott. “Why don’t we trade places?”

“I don’t want to make Ivy mad.” Scott frowned and straightened the placemat in front of him, even though Stiles was doing a great job of making them square with the table, thank you very much. 

“She’ll be even more mad if I accidentally burn down the house because someone let me into the kitchen.” 

Scott shrugged and sighed dramatically, but left the room just the same. 

“Okay?” Allison asked Stiles, and he shrugged in response.

“I mean, I knew this was going to be hard, and I think we’re doing okay so far, but…” Stiles didn’t want to say any more out loud in case someone was listening. 

“Yeah,” Allison said softly, going back to the cupboard and pulling out a couple of glasses. She passed them to Stiles, her fingers brushing his as she did. 

It was a gesture that, had they been at home, would never have affected Stiles. Before this whole rigmarole, Stiles never really looked at Allison as someone he’d ever want to see in a sexual light. Scott had been interested in her from the start, which meant she was off limits. But now that they were pretending those limits didn’t exist, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel confused. Because Allison was very, very pretty and smart and awesome and Stiles totally understood what Scott saw in her. So yeah, maybe the brush of her fingers against his made Stiles blush. 

He and Allison finished setting the table in silence, until the job was done about two minutes later. “So, now what?” Stiles asked.

“Come on,” Allison said, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling him away from the kitchen, toward the front of the house.

“What are we doing?” he hissed, letting Allison lead him out the front door. “We can’t afford to get in trouble, Allison!”

“Just a little reconnaissance.” Allison stuck her head out the front door, looking around for a moment before widening the door and pulling Stiles through. “You’re my cover. If anyone comes, we’ll just play the horny newlyweds and make out.”

“Yeah, because nothing could go wrong with _that_.” Stiles didn’t protest when Allison pulled him out of the house.

The field around the house swam in tall, yellowing grass, which made Stiles think that no one cared enough to mow it. Or maybe they were supposed to have cows and sheep or whatever and crazy Bruce had sacrificed them to his Druidic gods. Either that, or the werewolves got hungry. “D’you think they ever leave this farm?”

“Probably.” Allison moved them quickly around the house to the back, which did sound like it had a bunch of chickens. Stiles wondered if chickens made good Druid sacrifices, too. “I mean, Ivy’s clothes are from this season, so either she went out and bought them, or there’s someone who makes deliveries.”

“That is a good point,” Stiles replied, sniffing at the acrid air around the little chicken barn. “Though I think maybe you’ve been spending a little too much time with Lydia lately if you can tell this year’s fashion from any other year’s.”

Allison grinned back at Stiles, her teeth extra white in the lingering evening light. “You’re probably right.

As they made a wide circle around the house, Stiles didn’t see anything that looked off. Granted, he hadn’t been on that many—or any—farms, but he had gotten better at noticing oddities. The Monroes’ farm appeared to be as mundane a place as Stiles had ever seen. Even the little garden in the back of the house — which Stiles was sure had to have insane recipe ingredients (and even some wolfsbane) — had a cluster of tall, bright sunflowers standing in the center. 

“Let’s get back, Allison. Before anyone misses us.”

“We should,” she agreed, pushing Stiles up the porch steps and against the wall next to the front door. “One more thing.”

Allison rose up on her tiptoes and grabbed the back of Stiles’ neck in one hand, his shoulder in the other. Without any further warning, she latched her mouth onto the base of Stiles’ neck and began sucking. “Woah-h-h-ho, Jesus. What do you think you’re doing?”

Allison mouthed her first answer, “Cover story,” and then said in this fake, breathy voice, “Oh, Dave!” Then she sucked on Stiles’ neck for a few more, long, excruciating seconds. “There. I don’t like how those other girls were looking at you, Dave. They should know that you belong to me and Scott.”

“Th—that’s sure the truth, alright,” Stiles said, squirming in his suddenly too-tight pants. "All yours."

Allison's brows furrowed briefly, a tiny expression Stiles barely caught before it fled. "Come on. Maybe Scott and Patty need some help carrying things to the table."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, wobbling forward on shaky legs. "Helping is a thing. That we could do."

Scott rose an eyebrow at Stiles and Allison when they returned to the kitchen, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he shoved a platter into Stiles' hands and said, "Here you go, _Dave_."

"Thanks, Lover Bear," Stiles replied, not really paying attention to the words as they came out of his mouth. Scott sniggered behind him, though, which made Stiles grin. 

When all the dishes were on the table, Stiles made to sit down in the chair Ivy pointed out to him. Before he could do anything but pull the heavy chair out a few inches, Patty stopped him.

"We have to wait for Ivy and Bruce," she said, her voice low and solemn. Not to be messed with.

"Yeah, okay, sure," Allison assured Patty, her hand on Stiles' arm. It was weird, getting used to all this touching. Like, he and Scott normally horsed around, but no one else besides Stiles' dad usually touched him. Ever. Stiles tried to make it look like Allison's hand on his arm was an everyday sort of thing, but it was difficult when every time one of them shifted, the zing of the touch through his body made him startle. The throb of the hickey on his neck wasn't helping either. 

Less than a minute later, footsteps creaked on the stairs coming up from the basement, and Bruce and Ivy made their appearance. "Any luck?" Scott asked them.

Bruce and Ivy both gave Scott an odd look. Bruce directed his answer to Stiles. "Getting closer, I think. Still haven't found the variation of the petrifying spell that was used on your friend."

"You're sure Stiles can't help you look?" Allison asked, and Stiles felt the blood drain from his upper body at her mistake. He nudged her foot with his own and widened his eyes at her when Allison looked over at him.

"Who is this Stiles?" Ivy asked, her eyes dark as she took a step toward Allison. 

"Just a nickname Allison gave me," Stiles insisted quickly, his heart beating too fast. The werewolves were going to hear the lie! "She likes the way I dress. Thinks I'm stylish."

"Right," Allison said. "Sorry, Dave. I know that name embarrasses you."

"Totally embarrassed." Stiles chuckled awkwardly and clapped his hands together. "So, should we eat?"

"Yes," Bruce said, giving all three of them long looks before his inquisitive expression turned more polite. He sat down, saying, "Oh, I'm starving. I hardly ever remember to eat when I'm working. Do you find it to be the same, David?" Stiles waited for Ivy to sit at Bruce's left before he sat down as well, facing Bruce down the length of the table. He felt like this was some sort of test, and he knew at some point they were going to have to do better than a hickey to pull off this ruse. It also occurred to him that Bruce didn't look like the kind of guy who was in the habit of skipping meals, but he didn't say that out loud.

Patty sat down next to Ivy, on Stiles' right, while Scott sat on Stiles' left, with Allison between him and Bruce. Patty passed Stiles a bowl, so he served himself some of the food, even though he wasn't quite sure what it was. He waited for Bruce to take a bite out of a preponderance of caution, even though he was afraid it might have seemed rude. To distract from his possible rudeness, Stiles answered Bruce's question.

"Oh, totally. You get in the zone and it's like the whole world disappears, except for what you're working on." No need to tell anyone that was more like the side affects of his adderall than any experience he had with being a Druid.

"And where did you say you were from?" Ivy asked, her smile deafeningly polite. "Silly me, I've gone and forgotten."

"Santa Barbara," Scott replied. "Not too far from the coast."

"Oh? I used to live in Santa Barbara!" Ivy's teeth looked a little too shark-like for Stiles' comfort. "What part of town?"

"Oh, not too far off State," Allison said easily, and Stiles had to hide his surprise behind a forkful of food. "Kind of behind Bishop Garcia High? We're renting a little house there."

"How nice," Ivy replied. She looked a little put out, and Stiles feared which questions she might bombard them with next. He'd covered the Druid-related part of the research for their little ruse, not the everyday sort of things. He hoped Allison had memorized enough. "Is that where you three go to school?"

Allison gave Ivy a perfectly raised brow. " _I_ went to Bishop. Dave and Scott went to Santa Barbara High. I met them at UCSB."

"Oh? None of you moved away for college?" Patty asked, her question feeling a lot more innocent than Ivy's had.

"My dad doesn't really take care of himself," Stiles offered, finishing chewing his bite and swallowing it. "I wanted to stay close by, make sure he stayed on his diet."

"I didn't want to leave my pack," Scott added. 

Allison spoke up again, saying, "And my parents and I moved away after my freshman year of high school, but I really loved Santa Barbara, so I went back for college."

"See?" Bruce said to Ivy. "These kids all have good reasons for going to college together. Fell in love quickly, huh?"

Scott smiled at Allison, hearts in his eyes. "Love at first sight!"

"For you," Allison laughed. "Dave and I both took a little convincing."

Stiles nodded vigorously and everyone at the table, except for Ivy, laughed. Stiles figured they would have to do something drastic to keep Ivy off their asses, but he wasn't quite sure what that something drastic should be. Maybe letting the Monroes "overhear" some sort of intimate rendezvous? 

"So," Stiles said looking at Scott, then Allison, then at the one king bed they were supposed to sleep on for the duration of their stay. "Looks comfy."

"Look, if you want, I could sleep—" Scott started to say, and Stiles winced, but Allison went as far as clapping her hand over Scott's mouth. Scott mumbled a one-syllable question from behind Allison's hand.

Stiles tried to mime out something along the lines of, "The walls have ears," but Scott still looked confused.

Allison held up a finger, then let go of Scott and started rooting around in her purse. She pulled out a receipt and a pen and scribbled something, using the dresser as a hard surface. When she turned around, Allison's note said, "The werewolves can still hear us!"

"Ah," Scott said. Then he grinned. "I call the middle spot in the bed!"

Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, and Allison said, "Well, damn! That's where I wanted to sleep."

"Now, now," Stiles broke in. "You both know it's my turn to sleep in the middle. Fair's fair."

"You sure you're remembering right?" Allison said, sitting down heavily on the bed so she bounced a few times before coming to rest. "I distinctly remember it being your turn last night. That means it's my turn."

Scott got this weird look on his face, but he said, "I don't mind if Allison's in the middle." The way Scott blushed gave Stiles an inkling of the thoughts that had put the weird look on his face.

And that gave Stiles an opening for the idea he'd had during dinner. "Ooh," he said in his breathiest voice. "Oh, yeah. Do that again." Then he vigorously made out with the inside of his elbow.

Allison laughed before changing her tone and saying, "Mmm, boys! That's just right!"

Then both of them looked at Scott, who blushed even more. When he tried to say something, his voice caught in his throat and he had to clear it before he could finish. "Um, yeah. Please."

Did Scott _actually_ say please and thank you during sex? God help him, but Stiles found that adorable. 

On the bed, Allison started pulling the sheets this way and that, making sighing noises every so often and Stiles had to bite his lip to get his semi to calm down, but then he had an idea. He took off his belt, letting the buckle clack loudly and ignoring Scott's raised eyebrow, and let it fall to the floor. Then Stiles opened his suitcase and took out a few pieces of clothing, shaking them out and letting them fall to the floor.

"St— _Dave_ ," Scott said with this desperate sort of tone that made Stiles' mouth go dry as he looked up at his friend. Scott sat down on the bed, but he held out his hand, like he was inviting Stiles to join him. Yeah, that semi was making a comeback, and there was nothing Stiles could do about it.

"Ooh," said Allison as Stiles kneeled on the bed next to Scott, then Allison rocked her whole body so her weight made the headboard hit the wall.

"Shh!" Scott said, but he was grinning. "Not so hard, Dave!"

With exaggerated panting, Stiles said, "Sorry!" He bounced on the bed a few times, before asking, "That good, baby?"

"Yeah," Allison and Scott both answered, which made all three of them giggle.

"No, no, keep it down!" Allison cried, before flinging herself down onto the bed with a low moan.

Jesus. This was going to kill Stiles. He just had to think of it as a performance, right? Make believe. Stiles bounced up and down on his knees, grunting a little with the rhythm. Scott picked up his rhythm and did the same, while Allison giggled and shrieked and moaned and held a hand over her mouth like she was about to laugh out loud any second.

Stiles mouthed at Allison, "How long?"

Holding up a finger, Allison took a few loud breaths, and then let out a long, soft, hitching moan. Fuck. How true was that to life? No wonder Scott had all but disappeared when the two of them started doing it. 

Speaking of Scott, he let out a long, low groan and collapsed onto the bed, his flailing limbs knocking against Allison, who didn't seem to mind. God damn it. This was supposed to be pretend. This wasn't supposed to make Stiles want to jump between his best friend and his best friend's girlfriend and grind up on someone until he came.

But, the show must go on. Stiles gave a few quiet grunts, like he was trying to hold himself back, and then sighed, "Yesssss." He hadn't been nearly as coherent when he'd slept with Danny, but Stiles liked to think that with a little practice, his bedroom vocalizations would get better. Whatever better meant.

Stiles dropped down onto the bed as well, taking a few calming breaths and willing his erection to go away. When he was mostly calm again, he asked, "No really, so who's sleeping in the middle? Scott?"

"Yeah, okay," Scott said, and Allison nodded.

Stiles got up and picked up the clothes he'd dropped, returning them to the suitcase and pulling out the pajama bottoms he'd packed. Normally he just slept in his t-shirt and boxers, but he figured with a lady who wasn't actually his significant other in the room, he'd better be a little bit more decent. "Okay, so I'm gonna…" Stiles made for the bathroom, taking his pajamas and his toothbrush with him.

Stiles was tempted to jerk off while he was alone in the bathroom, but the other werewolves in the house, not to mention Scott, would probably hear him. Yeah, he really didn't need his best friend knowing how much their little show had gotten to him.

When he was done spitting out his toothpaste, Stiles heard extra voices in the bedroom. He cracked the door and found Allison talking to Patty at the door. Wanting to make sure their show had gone over okay and that he wasn't going to blow it now, Stiles approached Scott and put an arm around his shoulders. He kissed Scott's cheek and murmured in Scott's ear, "Everything okay?"

Scott nodded, most of his attention at the door, where Allison and Patty were talking about towels or something. Scott did lean into Stiles' embrace, and Stiles found it difficult not to notice how warm Scott's skin was and how nice it smelled. Allison wrapped up the conversation and closed the door, leaning back against it with her eyes closed when she turned around. 

When she opened her eyes and they widened, Stiles realized that he was still holding onto Scott, his hips tilted a little too far forward. He let go and cleared his throat. "So, bedtime then, huh?"

As Stiles settled on the edge of the bed, his back to Scott's back like they used to sleep when they were younger during sleepovers, he tried to put out of his mind how royally screwed he was. He'd always had sort of a thing for Scott, but it had been buried under the weight of best-friendship for so long that Stiles had all but forgotten about it. But in addition to that blunder, now he'd gone and broken one of the major rules of being a best friend: he'd started falling for Scott's girlfriend.

Fuck.

Except not literally, because that was so not the point here. There was doing what he could to sell the act, so that they could get Derek back, and then there was crossing a line. Stiles felt like he was balanced on the edge of the line, looking over at the other side and all its seductive glory.

In the morning, Stiles woke up with short hair in his face, something warm pressed against his morning wood, and his hand very definitely cupping something breast-like. The something warm was Scott's ass and the something breast-like was Allison's breast. Stiles scrambled back so fast he fell out of the bed. His ass hit the floor and one elbow knocked the nightstand, making it wobble precariously before settling right.

"Wha—?" Scott asked, peering sleepily over the edge of the bed. "You okay?"

_Aside from a bruised ass, a set of painful crushes, and a shame-boner?_ "Yeah," Stiles lied. "I'm good. Just um—just used to our bed being bigger, I guess."

"Our—?" Scott started to ask, before his eyes flicked up to the door. "Yeah. Our bed is bigger. But this is cozy. Right, babe?" Scott offered Stiles a hand and Stiles hesitated before taking it.

"Right." Stiles stood up with Scott's help, but then he didn't let go of Scott's hand. And Scott didn't let go either. Was Scott feeling something, too? He couldn't be, right? Could he?

Just as Stiles was about to open his mouth to ask Scott _something_ , the door to their room burst open and Bruce stepped into the room. "Dave, I got it!"

Allison was on her feet with a dagger in her hand and some pretty awesome bed head before Bruce finished saying his first word. Stiles thought it was pretty badass of her, but Bruce looked like he might spook.

Sharing a quick look with Scott and dropping his hand, Stiles held out both hands toward Bruce. "Whoa, there, buddy. This is good news, right?" He held out a hand toward Allison. "Not an attack."

Bruce scrunched up his face, "I forgot to knock, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but it's cool." Stiles looked back at Allison and raised an eyebrow. 

She frowned and set her dagger down on the bed beside her and took a step away from it. "It's cool."

"Sorry," Bruce said, giving Allison a once-over now that she wasn't armed. She was wearing a loose t-shirt (no bra, as far as Stiles had been able to tell during his unintentional grope) and short gym shorts. The outfit totally worked for her. It totally worked for Stiles, too. However, the insinuation that it totally worked for Bruce as well made Stiles want to punch the guy. Allison was supposed to be his _wife_ thank you very much. Of course, if Allison didn't like the way Bruce looked at her, she could take care of it herself, but still.

Scott stood up next to Stiles, and the frown on his face said volumes. Yeah, this wasn't going to stand. Stiles walked toward Bruce, saying, "So you found it! Let's go take a look, huh?"

"Right," Bruce agreed, letting Stiles usher him out of the room and back toward the basement door. "So, I've managed to use the spell to petrify one of Patty's pet mice—"

"What?" Stiles asked, following Bruce down into the basement. Jesus, he hoped Bruce wouldn't try to petrify him next! "A mouse?"

"I figured it would be best to experiment on a live subject." Bruce reached the bottom of the stairs and approached the table in the middle of the room. Sure enough, there was a little stone figure of a mouse sitting roughly in the center. "Does that look like the same sort of stone your friend was turned into?"

Stiles stepped closer, feeling a little self-conscious about being in pajamas now that his "spouses" weren't about to kill their host. Examining the mouse and giving it a good tap, Stiles said, "Yeah. That looks exactly the same. What do we do now?"

"Now we teach you the counterspell." Bruce's eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands together. It was all very mad-scientist.

"Um," Stiles replied. "Should I get dressed first?"

Bruce waved his concern away and drew Stiles' attention to the open page of a gigantic book, which took up a large portion of the table. "Look here. This is the spell I performed to petrify the mouse. It's a variant of a Medusa-type curse, but the victim doesn't have to be looking at the caster." He pointed to several lines in the book, but even the symbols meant nothing to Stiles, much less the words.

"Am I supposed to be able to read this?"

Dropping his jaw, Bruce scoffed. "Tisha hasn't taught you runics yet? Maiden, mother, and crone, what is the world coming to?"

"Uh, mostly we've been working on protective stuff," Stiles told Bruce, hoping it was close enough to the truth not to get him in trouble. "Trying not to get killed, mountain ash, that sort of thing."

Bruce frowned. Then he put a finger to his lips and scrunched his brow. "This probably isn't going to work, then. I'll come do the spell myself."

"No!" Stiles cried before he could stop himself. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I mean, no, thank you. I _really_ want to do this on my own, you know?"

"A matter of pride." Bruce nodded, almost sagely. "I understand. Well then, we'll have to go through it line by line."

Bruce spent a long time working Stiles through the spell, and exactly what he had to do, and then it was time for Stiles to try it on the mouse. He gathered his concentration, breathed in and out like Deaton had taught him, took the ingredients Bruce had set out, and pushed his will at the mouse.

Nothing happened.

"Damn." Stiles said, scratching his fingernails over his scalp. "Okay, I'll try it again."

Bruce nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. Stiles was pretty sure Bruce didn't believe he could do it, but it was just like the mountain ash spell, really – sprinkle some powders and believe really hard.

Stiles tried again, and again the mouse didn't come back to life.

"Did you try the counterspell already?" Stiles asked, stepping away from the table. "Like, it works, doesn't it?"

Sighing, Bruce stepped up to the table, took a pinch of the dried wormwood and another of the dried fig leaves, sprinkled them on the mouse, and suddenly it was alive again. Just like new.

Fuck.

Stiles was about to make some comment about how he really was just in training, and maybe he needed to warm up to reviving technically-dead things, but a loud bang at the top of the stairs cut him off. "What was that?"

"[No! You have to let us see him! Dave!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1066348)" Scott shouted, and Stiles felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. 

Turning to Bruce, Stiles asked, "What's going on?"

"I asked my wives to keep the hunter upstairs while we were working," Bruce said, moving to the bottom of the stairs and looking up at the closed door at the top. "I don't want her finding out my secrets."

"What secrets, dude? And I'm already down here. Anything I know, I'd tell her."

"She's trained to see—" Bruce started before he cut himself off. "No. No, you're right. I was being silly and paranoid." In a louder voice, he called up the stairs, "Just let them down here before someone gets hurt, love!"

The door opened and Allison hurried down the stairs, Scott on her heels. Allison approached Stiles quickly and grabbed his face in her hands. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles assured her, patting Allison's wrists. "I'm _fine_. What's going on?"

Before she answered, Allison pressed a tight kiss to Stiles' lips. He tried not to let his surprise show too much as she pulled back. "You've been down here _all day_ and they wouldn't let us see you."

"We were worried," Scott insisted, joining them and putting his arms around both of them.

Scrunching up his brows, Stiles said, "But I've only been down here for, like, an hour, guys. What do you mean 'all day'?"

"It's dinnertime," Scott insisted, taking his phone out of his pocket and showing it to Stiles. "See?"

"Whoa." Stiles turned to Bruce. "What happened? How could I just lose track of that much time? Did you do something to me?"

Holding up his hands placatingly, Bruce insisted, "No. No, I didn't do anything. Sometimes these spells take time and you don't realize it. I swear, David. I mean you no harm." His eyes flicked toward Allison, and Stiles believed Bruce's fear of starting something with Allison, even if one of his wives was an alpha. Stiles sighed in relief.

"Did you get it to work?" Allison asked, letting go of Stiles' face, but letting her hands brush down his chest as she lowered them. Stiles shivered.

"Not yet," Stiles admitted. "But I was getting close! Gimme one more shot. Bruce, petrify the mouse!"

"You know, you'd make a good evil scientist," Allison said, drawing away and taking Scott with her by the hand.

Stiles grinned back at her. His stomach growled. "No one tell me to go eat. I swear, I was so close. One more try."

Looking a little more weary than Stiles felt, Bruce nodded. He threw the jasmine and sand mixture at the mouse and it froze into a little mouse statue. Scott breathed out an impressed noise.

Aware that Scott and Allison, and even Derek back at home, were counting on him to get this right—and that he was the only one who _could_ get it right—Stiles took a deep breath. He rubbed his hands together to warm them up and stepped toward the table. Taking a pinch each of the wormwood and the fig leaves, Stiles let out his breath. "Let's do this."

Stiles imagined, with all of his will, not only the mouse coming back alive, but also the way it would feel to be successful in front of Scott and Allison. He imagined how happy they would be, and how they'd get to go home together. Stiles pushed all of those thoughts toward the mouse at the same time he sprinkled the ingredients onto the mouse. Stiles only realized he had his eyes closed when he heard squeaking.

Eyes flying open, Stiles looked down to see that the mouse had come back to life. "I did it!" He couldn't keep himself from doing a little dance, even as Allison and Scott launched themselves at him happily.

"Interesting," Bruce said, picking up the mouse and putting it in its cage at the side of the room. "You three must have a very strong bond."

"Why do you say that?" Allison asked, leaning her head against Stiles' shoulder as she faced Bruce. 

"He couldn't do the spell until you two were in the room," Bruce explained. "Sometimes sexual bonds have an affect on our abilities." He gave Stiles a knowing look, and Stiles blushed. It wasn't even true, and Stiles was embarrassed. "Of course, strong emotional bonds like the ones you three have are the most powerful."

"Right," Stiles quickly said, throwing his arms around Scott and Allison. "I just love my husband and my wife so much! I guess I needed them to be able to do the spell."

"Must have been." Bruce smiled before pointing the way up the stairs. "Let's have dinner and practice a few more times. You three can go home in the morning."

"We really should go back," Scott said, following Bruce up the stairs. "We don't know how long our friend can stay a statue before he can't come back again."

"We can't go until I make sure I can do it consistently. I mean, how would you like to end up back home with me throwing dust at a statue for days? Not fun."

"We can stay one more night," Allison agreed, putting a placating hand on Scott's arm. Then she winked at Stiles. "The bed is _cozy_ , after all."

"Right, okay," Stiles said, feeling his cheeks heat up. At Scott's relenting nod, he said, "We'll stay."

By the time Stiles had reinvigorated the mouse another five times, Allison and Scott were asleep, sitting on a heavy blanket at the side of the room. Bruce busied himself putting things away, and Stiles crouched down next to them to wake them up. He liked the way Allison's hair fell against the skin of her neck and shoulders and he liked the way Scott's lashes looked long enough to practically braid them when he was sleeping. 

Sighing, Stiles admitted to himself that this was something he wanted. It had started out pretend, but it felt real the longer Stiles played it that way. But it was hopeless, and Stiles was the only one who was going to get hurt if he kept thinking this way. Scott didn't love Stiles that way. Allison didn't either. They were Stiles' friends, and that was the way it had to be.

He reached out his hand and brushed Allison's hair away from her face. Very aware that Bruce was still in the room, pretending not to watch, Stiles kissed her, gentle and slow. "Wake up, sleepyheads." He kissed Scott, too, mostly because he could. When else would Stiles get the chance?

Scott had to be still half asleep, but he kissed Stiles back with a tiny groan. He must have thought Stiles was Allison. Except, when Stiles pulled away and Scott opened his eyes, he didn't seem surprised. 

Oh. It must have been an act.

Up in their room, Stiles lay on the bed and waited for the others to finish getting ready. Scott joined him first, leaving the bathroom to Allison. "Hey," Scott said, sliding into the bed next to Stiles. "You doing alright?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, giving Scott a smile and nudging Scott's side with his elbow. "Can you believe our 'intense sexual bond' gave me superpowers?"

"Oh, totally," Scott said with a chuckle. Sobering after a moment, Scott turned onto his side and faced Stiles. "You were pretty awesome today."

"Yeah?" Smiling, Stiles tried to tell himself Scott was just being his best friend, and nothing more. It was difficult. "I kinda was, wasn't I? Oh, yeah! Who's the man?"

From behind Scott, Allison jumped onto the bed. "I'm the man," she insisted with a grin. "I totally made an alpha werewolf back down because she was convinced I'd do anything to get you back."

"You _wouldn't_ do anything to get me back?" Stiles asked with a mock-gasp. "You're breaking my heart!" At Stiles' mock sniffle, Allison reached across Scott and pushed at Stiles' shoulder. "Oh, that's the way you want to play it, huh?" Stiles reached across Scott and gave Allison a nudge in return.

"Yeah, that's totally it," Allison replied. Her nudge was still playful, but more forceful than the last. "Can't let you get a big head!" Then she dug her fingertips into Stiles' side and tickled him.

"Hey! No tickling!" Stiles got up on his knees and dove over Scott so he could tackle Allison onto the bed. He ended up with his hips across Scott's stomach, and Allison pinned under his chest, her face just an inch away from his. "Ha."

Allison kissed Stiles.

Surprised, but mostly confused, Stiles pushed back, standing up on his knees and looking down at Allison and then Scott. He wiped his lips. "What was that?"

"Sorry," Allison said, sitting up and curling her knees closer to her chest. "I just forgot that…" She nodded her head toward the bedroom door and, presumably, the people on the other side of it. "I got caught up."

"It's okay," Scott insisted, sitting up as well and putting his arm around Allison's shoulder. "I don't mind. This whole thing." He nodded at the door as well. "It was bound to happen eventually. Seriously, don't worry about it."

Allison nodded and Stiles sat back on his heels. Grinning, Stiles joked, "Hey, maybe we can do it again sometime?"

Stiles watched as Allison took a sharp breath, one hand touching her lips. That meant she wanted to kiss Stiles again, didn't it? When Stiles could tear his gaze away, he looked over at Scott, who wasn't looking at Allison like Stiles might have expected. Instead, Scott's gaze was on Stiles – Stiles' mouth, actually. That was weird, wasn't it?

Scott moved toward Stiles, but then stopped, his gaze flicking upward to meet Stiles'. "I— Can I?"

Stiles tried to tell himself he had no idea what Scott was asking for, and he said, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want."

And then Scott was on his knees in front of Stiles, his hands on either side of Stiles' face and his lips pressed tight against Stiles'. Desire flared through Stiles' body and he just about choked on his tongue as he took a quick, surprised breath through his nose. And then Scott tilted his head and deepened the kiss, moving his lips against Stiles' and brushing his tongue lightning-quick against Stiles' lower lip. Stiles groaned and grabbed onto Scott's hips so he wouldn't topple over.

When Scott drew back, his eyes dark and searching Stiles' face, Stiles had to lick his lips and take another breath before he could speak. "Tell me that wasn't just because—" Stiles jerked his head toward the door. "If this is just a—"

"It's not," Scott insisted, one of his hands slipping back around Stiles' neck. Shifting so that Allison wasn't behind him anymore, Scott held a hand out to her. "Okay?"

Allison took Scott's hand and walked closer on her knees. She put her hand to Stiles' cheek and all he could think about was how warm her skin felt. And then she ran her hand back into Stiles' hair, her nails scratching his scalp and making him shiver, and pulled him into a kiss.

Unable to stop himself, Stiles grabbed Allison by the hip and pulled himself closer to her, their hipbones crashing together, but it didn't matter because the way Allison licked into his mouth made Stiles want to get as close to her as humanly possible.

As Allison pulled away to kiss Scott as well, Stiles asked, "Okay, so we're really doing this? I'm not having some sort of fever dream from not eating enough today?"

Scott slipped his hand down onto Stiles' ass and bit at his jaw until saying in Stiles' ear, "We're really doing this. If that's okay with you?"

"I'm onboard," Stiles insisted. "Allison?"

"Hell, yes." She pushed at Stiles until he was lying down on the bed, then she straddled his hips.

"Okay, now I'm really sure I'm dreaming." "It's real, dude," Scott said, laying down beside Stiles and nibbling on his ear. God damn it. Of course Scott already knew his weak spots. They'd only been talking about everything and anything since they first became friends.

With Allison in his lap and Scott panting in his ear, Stiles didn't know where to start. Where was he supposed to put his hands? Who was he supposed to kiss? How was he supposed to last more than two seconds?

Stiles compromised with one hand on Allison's waist and the other on Scott's neck. Stiles could feel the pulse of Scott's blood under his hand, and it was quicker than he would have thought. "Are you nervous, too?" he whispered against Scott's lips.

"Yeah," Scott replied, turning their words into a kiss. Stiles' stomach flip-flopped and his hips stuttered up against Allison before he could stop them.

Allison settled down on Stiles' chest. "Isn't anyone going to ask if I'm nervous?"

Scott didn't even hesitate before asking, "Are you?"

"A little bit," she replied, kissing Scott and then sliding up along Stiles' chest a few inches so she could grab Stiles' head and pull him into the deepest, best kiss he'd ever gotten. Time stopped and Stiles held his breath, tightening his arm around Allison's waist.

"Oh, god," Stiles groaned when she pulled back, letting out a whoosh of air he'd been holding back. "Oh, fuck. Allison!"

"How do you want to…" Scott asked, one of his hands entangled in the hair at the back of Allison's head, the other petting Stiles' arm. It occurred to Stiles that everyone was still wearing clothes. He may have only done the whole sex thing once before, but Stiles was pretty sure all the clothes came off. 

Stiles shrugged at Scott and reached over to pull Scott's shirt up. Remembering that at least two of the three Monroes could probably hear them, Stiles said, "Anything you _don't_ want to do, sweetheart?"

As Scott took off his shirt, he shrugged. "Not much. But I didn't exactly bring _supplies_."

"Supplies?" Stiles asked, thinking Scott meant something kinky like nipple clamps. What were he and Allison into? What would they let Stiles do?

"Lube," Allison said quietly in Stiles' ear as she pushed up his shirt. Stiles decided the polite thing to do was help Allison with her shirt as well. 

Once he was done being distracted by Allison's breasts sitting in her lacy black bra, the meaning of the word "lube" occurred to him. "Oh. Oh, damn." He quickly ran through a mental checklist of the contents of his suitcase. "I think I have maybe one condom, but nothing else."

"We can do plenty without," Scott insisted, his hands fumbling with Stiles' belt as Allison hovered over him, kissing Stiles' neck. It didn't take long for Scott to take Stiles' pants and Stiles smiled against Allison's lips at the memory of the last time Scott had pantsed him – in third grade during recess, in front of Heidi Jenson. 

This time Scott didn't stop at pants, he took Stiles' boxers as well, before wrapping his hand around Stiles' cock. "Jesus," Stiles groaned, using both hands to push Allison's hair back and out of both of their faces. As Scott pumped Stiles' dick, the head brushed skin—probably Allison's thigh or ass—and Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from embarrassing himself. "Scott!"

"I've always wanted to try something," Scott said.

Allison sat up and turned to look at him. "What?"

"Yeah, what?" Stiles groaned, propping himself up on his elbows so he could see around Allison. 

His question was answered when Scott bent down and licked the head of Stiles' cock. 

"Oh, fffff—" Stiles said, sharp pleasure jumping through his body. He slammed past the point of no return without any warning and came, his dick pulsing in Scott's hand.

Scott cried out in surprise, tightening his grasp on Stiles' cock. "Holy shit!"

"Sorry, I just—"

Allison swung her leg over so she was kneeling at Stiles' side. "That was so hot."

"Really?" Stiles asked, shivering as Allison ran her thumb through the come on his belly. "'Cause I kinda figured it was really fucking embarrassing, seeing as we've been together for several years now." He cut his eyes toward the door so they would know what he was talking about, "And I just came like a freaking virgin."

"My ego's stoked." Scott grinned and lightly moved his hand up and down Stiles' cock, using the come to ease his way. Stiles shuddered so hard with overstimulation that he just about kicked Scott. "Can I try that some more?"

"Gimme a minute," Stiles insisted, batting Scott's hand away. Except for the fact that genitals were involved, rather than video game controllers or food, the whole exchange seemed strangely normal. "Besides, you two need less clothing."

"So true," Allison said, reaching her arms behind and unsnapping her bra. When she threw the bra away, Stiles' cock gave a feeble twitch of interest, and his mouth watered. Allison nodded at Stiles. "Dave, help Scott out of his clothes."

Stiles hated the fact that she'd called him by a different name, but he couldn't exactly complain. Not out loud in any case. It did feel weird and wrong to be doing this with an audience of sorts, and he prayed that the Monroe wives were both too involved in their whatevers to want to listen to his first time with not only Scott and Allison, but Stiles' first time with a girl. The feel of Allison's breast in his hand may have made Stiles give a very unmanly whimper.

But then he had orders to follow, so Stiles helped Scott finish getting undressed, steadying him as they both pushed Scott's pants and underwear down. Scott kicked the pants away and used his arm around Stiles' shoulders to pull Stiles into a kiss. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Stiles replied, skimming his hand down Scott's back. He kept inching it lower and lower, convinced that Scott would stop him for going too far, but that never happened. Scott groaned and kissed Stiles again when Stiles cupped his ass and squeezed. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Scott asked, "Help me?" Scott looked over at Allison, and Stiles followed his gaze to see that she had just finished pushing her underwear off her ankle. Stiles had only ever seen naked girls in porn, so the amount of pubic hair Allison had surprised him. She probably had almost as much as Stiles, though hers was a little more neatly trimmed. He decided he didn't care, he wanted everything Allison would give him.

"Help you with what?"

Scott kneeled down next to the bed and gestured Allison closer, kissing the inside of her knee when she sat right on the edge. Stiles still wasn't sure what he was supposed to do until Scott tugged on his hand I time he was kneeling too. Then Scott, his eyes on Allison's face, eased Allison's legs apart. She sighed and fell back just before Scott leaned closer and gave her a long, slow lick. Allison groaned, and Stiles noticed how similar the sound was to her fake ones the night before.

Grinning back at Stiles, Scott asked, "Help me with this?"

"With—?" Stiles watched Scott's face as he shuffled forward on his knees. He tried to check with Allison, but she had her head thrown back, her chest rising and falling with her breath, breasts slid apart toward her armpits. Stiles let his gaze fall down to where Scott had one hand holding Allison's outer folds apart. "With this?"

"Yes," Scott said, leaning close and licking across Stiles' lips.

Allison's foot nudged Stiles' back as she huffed. " _Someone_ do something."

Stiles was going to do this. Stiles could totally do this. Leaning forward, Stiles tentatively licked, trying to emulate what he'd seen Scott do. Allison's breath hitched, which was about the best sound ever. So Stiles repeated the motion, this time getting a better taste of her, musky and tangy.

Stiles did it again and Allison's groan was drowned out by Scott breathing heavily in Stiles' ear. Turning to look at him, Stiles asked, "Like that?"

"Just like that," Scott replied, leaning forward to take Stiles' place for a minute.

God, being this close to the action was like watching porn live action, except Stiles actually had all these feelings for Scott and for Allison. Stiles moved his gaze from watching Scott's technique up to Allison's face. Eyes closed, she clutched the pillow under her head with one hand and had the other under her thigh, helping hold her legs open. Stiles ran his fingers over hers, which made Allison open her eyes and smile at him, her breath coming in heavy pants.

Then Allison's brow furrowed and she gave a frustrated whimper. Stiles felt more than saw Scott move away, so he moved in to take Scott's place. This time he licked a little harder, watching what he could see of Allison's face and gauging her reactions. It occurred to Stiles that this was probably the most fun thing he'd ever done in his entire life, and he didn't know when he'd be able to do it again. Might as well make the most of the situation.

Scott's hand ran over Stiles' back, making him shiver, and Scott kissed the back of Stiles' neck. Fuck, Stiles wanted to know what it felt like to have Scott's weight on his back and Scott's dick inside him, but Stiles' limited experience had taught him that lube was a necessity. Scott's hand on Stiles' dick was a nice consolation prize, though.

Pulling away from Allison, Stiles told Scott, "Fuck, that's good."

Up the bed, Allison groaned and whined plaintively, "Scott!"

"I have an idea," Scott said, his eyes bright. He pulled Stiles up to his feet and then pushed him back onto the bed, his legs dangling over the side. Not quite sure what Scott wanted, Stiles made to scoot back, but Scott caught his leg under the knee. "No, right there. Allison? Do you want a ride?"

"God, yes," she sighed, scrambling up onto her knees. She leaned down and kissed Stiles, licking at his lips and then his tongue when he opened his mouth. Before he could really start to enjoy the kiss, Allison pulled back and grinned. She kissed Stiles once more on the tip of his nose and then asked Scott, "Forward or reverse?"

"Reverse," Scott replied, standing over them and tugging on his own dick. "I wanna see. I wanna help."

"Help?" Stiles asked as Allison straddled him, her back to his face. 

Looking over her shoulder, Allison stroked Stiles' cock a few times and asked, "This okay?"

Before even having to think about it, Stiles was nodding, then his many curious hours of sex ed via internet came back to him. "Condom? There's one in my bag."

"I only need one if you do," Allison replied, her face open and a little concerned. Stiles realized that concern was for _him_ , not for herself or for Scott. "Where in your bag?"

"You really trust me that much?"

"We're married," Scott insisted, leaning onto the bed. He cut his eyes toward the door again, reminding Stiles that, oh, right. They weren't exactly alone. "Of course we trust you."

"Besides," Allison added, her voice barely a whisper. "Aside from us, you've only been with Danny, and he's kinda obsessive about safe sex."

"Y—yeah, okay," Stiles nodded, sitting up as best he could to kiss Allison. Scott waylaid him with another kiss as he dropped back down. "Let's do this."

Chuckling, Allison took Stiles' dick in hand again, lifting herself up and then easing down onto him. She felt very different than Danny had, softer and wetter. Stiles gasped at the sensation along with the realization that _he'd_ helped get her that wet. Further in, her pussy clenched tightly around him, and Allison had to bounce up and down a few times to work herself down onto him. Stiles groaned. 

Scott kissed the groan from Stiles' mouth and then sat up, taking Allison's face in his hands and kissing her deeply as well. Stiles set his hands on Allison's waist, really just tracking her movements with the touch. Her timing stuttered as Scott touched her chest and Stiles took the opportunity to try to thrust up. Unfortunately, he didn't have much leverage with his feet off the bed. Allison groaned anyway. "Here," Scott said, and Allison laid down on top of Stiles, her back against his chest. His cock wasn't situated as deeply in her, but Stiles found that gave him a little room to catch one of his heels on the bed frame and thrust up into her.

"Fuck," Stiles sighed, wrapping his arms around Allison's waist and kissing her neck. And then Scott got off the bed and pushed up on Stiles' thighs right before taking one of Stiles' balls in his mouth. "Holy Jesus, Scott! Oh, god!"

"Mmmph," Allison complained, rocking her hips down against Stiles and turning her head to kiss him. 

Scott's mouth left Stiles' balls, licked up the base of his cock, and then Allison shuddered and shrieked. So that's what he meant by helping. After a minute, every time Stiles pulled out of Allison, Scott's tongue was there. Stiles could feel Scott's groan more than hear it and when Scott let go of one of Stiles' legs, Stiles was pretty sure Scott was using that hand to jack off. Stiles couldn't blame him.

"Oh, shit, you guys," Allison groaned, shaking in Stiles' arms. "God, I—"

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, picking up the pace. "Yeah, me too, baby." The term of endearment slipped out without conscious decision on Stiles' part, but things were moving too quickly for him to obsess over what it meant. "Ohh, Scott!"

"Do it," Scott said, right before Allison stopped breathing and really started shaking instead. Stiles drove his hips up into her as best he could, and then Allison cried out, curling up and taking Stiles with her. Over her shoulder, Stiles could see her hands holding Scott's head to her pussy and the sight made Stiles come for the second time that night.

"Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh, my god," he cried, pumping into Allison as she clenched tightly around him. When Stiles collapsed back, Allison followed. She didn't pull away right away, like Danny had, and Stiles basked in the warmth of being caught inside her. 

Scott climbed up onto the bed and straddled both of them, jacking his cock quickly with one hand. "That was so hot, you guys," he said, his eyes half-lidded. Stiles reached up and put a hand on one of Scott's flanks and Allison ran a hand up Scott's chest. She tweaked his left nipple once and then Scott cried out, coming all over Allison's breasts.

"Fuck," Scott sighed, falling to the side and cuddling up next to them. Allison pulled away and rolled onto Stiles' other side, laying out on her back and stretching. 

Stiles couldn't help but run a finger through the come on her chest and put it into his mouth, tasting it. He'd never gotten to taste anyone's come but his own, and while the taste had similar elements, Scott's was better, sweeter somehow. Stiles propped himself up on his elbow and then leaned down, licking a stripe of come off of Allison's breast.

Giggling, she cried, "Ew," and pushed Stiles' head away, but light enough so Stiles was pretty sure she was just joking.

"What? I can't clean you up?" he asked, moving as Scott wrapped an arm around his chest and pulled him up the bed so they were on the pillows. Allison wiped her chest with one of the bed sheets and followed, snuggling up to Stiles' chest. Scott settled in behind him, his still–somewhat–hard–dick resting between Stiles' ass cheeks. 

Stiles wondered how he'd been friends with Scott forever and not known that he would be into some pretty not-straight stuff with another guy. Maybe Scott was just into it with Stiles? 

Smiling, Stiles snuggled down between Allison and Scott and deliberately turned his brain off. He could unpack his feelings about all of this after a little sleep.

In the morning, Stiles woke up with Allison in his arms and Scott behind him. If last night had been a dream, and if Stiles were still dreaming, he didn't want to wake up. Fuck Derek and him stupidly getting turned into stone, Stiles never wanted to move. 

He pressed his nose to the skin of Allison's shoulder and breathed her in. Even though he wasn't a werewolf, her scent had become familiar to him over the past few years. Now, with his nose pressed right against her, Stiles could make out so much more of her scent. It was intoxicating. It made Stiles want to taste her again. All over. 

Behind Stiles, Scott twitched, his legs kicking a little. He'd always done it when they had sleepovers as kids, but never before had they both been naked and pressed together. Scott wasn't even hard, but he brushed against Stiles' ass cheek, and if Stiles hadn't been hard before, he was now.

Before Stiles could make a decision about what he wanted to do, Allison woke up, taking a deep breath and blinking as she turned to look back at him. "Hey."

"Mornin'," replied Stiles, watching Allison's face. She smiled at him and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Stiles' lips. Before he could capture her into a deeper kiss, Allison rolled away and off the bed, dismounting with perfect form.

She picked up her phone and read it. "Shit. Text from Lydia."

"What does she say?" Stiles scooted away from Scott and sat up. "Is everything okay?"

Allison frowned. "They were attacked. They managed to move Derek and are hiding out. We're supposed to meet them. She says D— I mean _Tisha_ thinks Derek doesn't have much time left."

"I can do the spell," Stiles said, sliding to the edge of the bed and pausing for a second before deciding what the hell, Allison had already seen everything. He let the sheet fall away as he stood up, naked, and crossed the room toward his suitcase and the clothes in it. "We have to leave, like, right now. Scott!"

"Humph?" Scott said, sitting up suddenly. His eyes half open, he looked Stiles up and down and smirked. "Hey…"

Allison threw a pair of boxers at Scott's head, which made Stiles laugh as he said, "Trouble back home. We've got to go!"

"Yeah, okay, sure," Scott said, taking the boxers and pulling them on. Stiles had always thought Scott's just–waking–up slow motion was amusing, but now he found it adorable as well.

Oh god, the sex had affected Stiles' brain. He was done for. Ruined. He couldn't be Scott and Allison's third wheel forever, now could he? On the way out, Patty pressed a box of granola bars into Scott's hands, Ivy gave Allison a thermos of coffee, and Bruce gave Stiles a zip bag full of other, smaller zip bags containing the various powders he would need to unpetrify Derek. "Thanks," Stiles said, taking the bag and then shaking Bruce's hand. "You know, for everything. Really couldn't have done this without you. And I'll, uh, I'll make sure we pay you back for these."

Stiles kind of expected Bruce to say that Stiles didn't have to bother, anything for a friend. Instead, Bruce grinned. "I'm looking forward to it." He put his arm around Ivy, who drew Patty closer by the hand. "Take care of your family, David." Bruce nodded over Stiles' shoulder to where Scott and Allison stood in the doorway, holding hands.

Stiles couldn't help the fond smile that spread across his face at the sight. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."

"And," Bruce said, dropping his voice even lower, "say hello to Deaton for me. Tell him I'm glad to have been of service for your quest to the truth."

Caught off-guard, Stiles stumbled his way through a few final goodbyes. Bruce knew Deaton had sent them? And what the hell did "quest to the truth" mean? See, this was why Stiles delayed training as a Druid for almost a year after the first time he used mountain ash. Too much bullshit doublespeak.

After the trek back to their car, they were on the road, Scott at the wheel again. It took Stiles a few minutes, but eventually he worked up the courage to ask, "So, about last night…?"

"Let's wait until we're completely free and clear," Allison insisted, so Stiles bit his tongue and sat back.

They left Bruce's territory and got out onto the highway, the whole time Stiles rehearsing in his head what he was going to say. He needed to know whether the night before was just a crazy, random happenstance between friends, or if he could plan on it happening again. And again. In many different positions. Maybe he should leave that part out and just focus on the fact that he'd been ruined for other people, and if Allison and Scott ever got sick of him hanging around them, Stiles was probably going to die alone. 

Okay, yeah. That would work. Stiles opened his mouth. 

Allison's phone rang. "Hey, Lydia. What's up?"

Stiles wished he had super-hearing like Scott so he could hear what they were saying.

"Shit, really? What route are you taking? Okay, yeah. We'll meet you." Allison hung up and turned to face Stiles and Scott. "Someone's attacking them. They're going to meet us halfway."

"So I'm going to have to, what?" Stiles asked. "Do this spell on the side of the road while we're under attack? What if I can't get it to work?"

"We'll be with you, Stiles," Scott insisted, stepping on the gas and passing the car ahead of them. "I know you can do it."

Turning further around in her seat, Allison held out her hand, and Stiles took it. "We believe in you."

"Wow," Stiles said, squeezing Allison's hand and nodding. "You two are right out of an after school special, you know that?"

Allison dropped Stiles' hand and batted at it before turning around with a huff that belied the grin on her lips. Scott laughed.

Again, Stiles tried to work up the nerve to say something. Ask if maybe he could be a more permanent part of their afterschool special. Something cheesy like that. But he didn't. He couldn't. Not yet.

"So, where are they?" Scott asked, driving the car down a bumpy gravel road. Stiles planted one hand above him on the ceiling of the car so he could avoid hitting his head on it, despite his seatbelt holding him down.

Eyes alternately on the road and on her phone, Allison replied, "They should be just up here. Lydia said they'd be here."

Stiles turned around, looking out the back window of the car. Man, he missed his Jeep, with her big back window. It was so easy to see behind you in that car. The crash junior year had really fucked up the Jeep, and she'd died before summer, much to Stiles' dismay. Now they were stuck in Allison's little sedan. The Jeep would've been able to handle this gravel road a lot better, too.

Shit, was that another dust cloud further down the road? It was! "Guys? I think we've got company."

"There they are!" Allison cried, and Scott swerved the car to the side of the road. He parked practically in the ditch, a few car lengths behind Derek's SUV. Stiles fumbled for his zip bags, his hands shaking. How was he supposed to do this spell he barely knew with a car full of bad guys barrelling down on him?

Scott opened Stiles' door from outside the car, helping him out and hurrying him toward the SUV. Allison stood out her open passenger-side door, aiming her bow over the car's hood and down the road, waiting for the enemy. Right. Stiles had Scott and Allison at his back. Isaac and Lydia jumped out of the SUV, and Isaac pulled open the back hatch, revealing the statue of Derek. They'd had to lay him down on his back, his feet and arms comically up in the air, to fit him into the car.

"Quick," Isaac said, clapping Scott on the shoulder and circling around to join Allison. A brief thought flitted across Sitles' mind. Allison and Isaac had sort of been dating for a little while before she and Scott got back together. Had they done this same thing to Isaac? Was that how Stiles was going to end up? On the outside, looking in?

Lydia's voice snapped Stiles' attention forward from Isaac. "Stiles? C'mon. Do this quickly." 

Scott squeezed Stiles shoulder, and then his hand was gone, leaving Stiles' skin cold under his jacket. No. He had to focus on getting Derek back. "Yeah. Okay. Let's do this."

Stiles ignored the sound of the vehicle rumbling over the gravel road and pulled out the herbs he needed. Muttering to himself, he said, "Okay. Wormwood for the bitterness of rebirth. Fig leaves to reveal the form beneath the stone." Stiles took a deep breath as he sprinkled the herbs, imagined Derek coming back to life and _pushed_.

Nothing happened.

"What's going on?" Lydia asked, her nails digging into Stiles' arm as she grabbed him. "Stiles? Is it working?"

"No," he said quietly. Lydia must not have heard him, because she gave him an expectant look. Louder, he said, "No. It didn't work." Stiles turned back and yelled at Scott, "It didn't work!"

Scott turned away from the approaching enemies—Stiles could see the sunlight glinting off the windshield of a pickup truck—and hurried toward Stiles. Allison hurried just a few steps behind Scott, leaving Isaac in her place behind the car.

Scott reached Stiles first, grabbing Stiles' face in his hands and holding his forehead to Scott's. Stiles met Scott's eyes. "I'm sorry. I—"

"Shut up," Scott said as Allison practically barrelled into them. "You can do this, Stiles. We know you can."

Stiles knew that he'd been able to do the spell when Scott and Allison were watching, where he hadn't been before. Scott believed in him. Allison was right there, too. All Stiles needed was a little courage, but, could he have the kind of courage he wanted from them, or was that just a one-time thing? Stiles tilted his jaw forward, putting his lips almost to Scott's before chickening out and pulling away again. No, it wasn't real. It wouldn't work. Stiles—

Scott pulled Stiles into a tight kiss, his lips harsh and warm against Stiles'. When Scott pulled back, Allison took his place, kissing Stiles with this determination that made Stiles take a deep breath through his nose. When Allison pulled back, she said, "We're right here, Stiles. You can do it."

"Yeah," Stiles replied, licking the taste of both of them off his lips. "Yeah, I can. Let's do this!"

Revitalized, Stiles ignored Lydia's wide eyes and open mouth. He let his eyelids slip closed and took another deep breath. Everything except Allison's hand on Stiles' back and Scott's breath in his ear slipped away. Without looking, Stiles found a pinch of wormwood and sprinkled it on where he could feel Derek lying in wait.

The world behind Stiles' eyelids shimmered. He added the ground-up fig leaves, pulled the threads surrounding Derek together and _pushed_. This time, Stiles felt the stone crumbling away. When he opened his eyes, Derek was made of flesh and bone, but he was also lying in the bed of the truck, motionless. "Is he dead?"

Lydia moved forward, pressing her ear to Derek's chest. Allison's hand left Stiles' back, and he turned to see that the pickup truck was almost on them. "His heart isn't beating."

"You know CPR?" Stiles asked, helping Lydia climb up into the back of the SUV.

"Yeah," she replied, expertly tilting Derek's head back and then setting her hands on his chest. As she started compressions, Stiles turned to face the incoming car. 

The truck almost ran Scott over, but he jumped out of the way in time. Allison hit the back tire with an arrow, making the truck swerve and crash into a telephone pole down the road a few yards. Stiles followed as Scott and Isaac ran toward the truck.

Two people jumped out of the truck – a man with a big ass gun tumbled out of the drivers' seat, and a woman with several pouches on her belt jumped down from the passenger's seat. The woman held out a hand, and Isaac flew back from them, almost taking Stiles down when he tried to catch Isaac. "I think she's a Druid," Isaac said as he regained his footing.

"Yeah, ya think?" Stiles replied, ducking as a bullet sailed over their heads. 

"Hand over his body!" the woman cried, sending another blow at Scott. Oddly, Stiles _saw_ the blast of power she'd used and was able to divert it so Scott didn't get blown off his feet. "Derek Hale's body. I know you have it!"

"What do you want with him?" Stiles asked, rummaging around behind his back for the other bags Bruce had sent along. "He's _dead_."

"We need to make sure," the man said, leveling his gun at Scott's head. Before Stiles could do anything to the man, Allison shot his gun hand with an arrow, making him scream.

The woman reacted to her partner being injured by sending an even bigger blast at them. Stiles _pushed_. He thought about how much he wanted to protect Allison and Scott and how much he wanted them to be proud of him, and how much he wanted to be their equal, someone they could both feel good about loving. He thought about how, yeah, he was more than a little bit in love with both of them, and maybe that could be okay. Stiles thought about all that, and he _pushed_ back.

The Druid fell down on her ass, and her partner got knocked off his feet as well. Knowing he only had about two tricks up his sleeve, Stiles ran up to the Druid and threw the other powders Bruce had given him onto her. He thought about protecting Scott and Allison, and the Druid turned to stone. "Ha! How do you like it?"

When Stiles turned around, Scott and Isaac had the guy in their hands, with Allison aiming her bow at his chest. "Why did you attack Derek?" Allison demanded.

The man scowled and didn't answer until Isaac knuckled him in the kidney. "His family owed ours a debt!" He turned his gaze to Stiles. "Turn her back!"

"Why should I?" Stiles asked, stepping up so he was shoulder-to-shoulder with Allison. "You left my friend to die. You tried to stop me from saving him. _Hell_ , I don't even know if he's going to make it! Why should I show _you_ any mercy?"

"If he lives, will you save her?" The man looked desperate enough to beg, and part of Stiles wanted to demand that of him.

Stiles crouched down, meeting Scott's eyes—Scott gave a slight nod—before slipping his gaze over to the man's. "What assurances do we have that you'll go far, far away and leave us alone? We could just turn you to stone. Put you in a graveyard. No one would ever find you in time."

" _Please_. You have my word. Change her back, and we'll consider the debt paid!" Sweat dripped from the man's nose. Or maybe that was a tear.

" _If_ he lives," Stiles agreed, even though he knew Scott was going to make him do it either way. "Don't go anywhere," he told the guy as he stood up, then Stiles grinned and pointed at the stone Druid. "You neither."

Stiles heard coughing before he rounded the SUV far enough to see Derek. He and Lydia both sat in the back of the SUV, Derek with his head between his knees, and Lydia patting his back. "Okay?" Stiles asked.

Lydia rolled her eyes, but Derek looked up at Stiles and gave him one solemn nod.

Heading back toward the man and his Druid friend, Stiles said, "Looks like you're in luck. We undid the spell just in time."

"Also, I'm amazing," Lydia said, helping Derek toward them with his arm around her shoulders.

"Also Lydia is amazing." 

Stiles took a deep breath and met first Allison's and then Scott's eyes. They both gave him encouraging nods. Okay. Stiles could do this. He'd done this with his heart pumping a million beats per second. He'd turned the Druid to stone in the middle of a shoot out. Nothing was impossible.

Stiles found the right powders and tossed them at the statue on the ground, willing her back to life. In an instant, she became flesh and blood again, gasping like she'd been underwater. 

Allison grabbed the Druid's hands while she was still disoriented. "Nuh-uh. You're not causing any more trouble."

The Druid scowled at Stiles and then Derek, and then at everybody, including her partner, but, she didn't try to escape or say a spell or anything, for which Stiles was grateful. Allison pulled a zip tie from her pocket (Why did she have those in there and why didn't Stiles' know about them? Jesus!) and tied the Druid's hands together behind her back. She handed another one to Isaac, who did the same to the guy.

"We'll call in an anonymous tip." Allison suggested, brushing her hands together as if clearing away dust. "When we get far enough away."

"Yeah," Scott agreed, offering his hand to take Allison's. Facing the Druid and her partner, Scott said, "And remember, you gave your word. The debt is paid."

The Druid gave her friend a shocked look, but the man nodded. "The debt is paid. You'll never see us again."

"Let's go." Scott led Allison away by the hand and put his free arm around Stiles' shoulders. It was a gesture Scott had done so many times before that Stiles had lost count years ago. He tried not to read too much into it now.

Being at home had never felt so weird before. It probably didn't help that it was still summer, and Stiles didn't have anything to do other than avoid talking to anyone.

The first day, he read through one of the books Deaton gave him, ignoring his phone when it rang. The doorbell rang once, but Stiles pretended he wasn't home. Why should he let people know he was around when all they were going to do was tell Stiles he'd gotten his hopes up?

Even if Stiles let himself believe that Scott and Allison both meant what they said during that night they'd had together, and during the battle with the other Druid, what was to say any of it would actually work for longer than a weekend. Sure Bruce—who knew Deaton had sent them, so who the fuck knew what his actual agenda was—had been making it work with two wives for at least a little while, but that didn't mean Stiles wanted to be like him.

Stiles hated the apparent power structure the Monroes had been following, with Bruce on top, Ivy in the middle, and Patty on the bottom rung. Stiles had to face it, as the weakest and least interesting of the three of them, Stiles would always end up on the bottom rung. He couldn't quite work out who would be at the top, though he was leaning toward Allison. And what? Stiles was their third wheel for however long they would have him? 

Over the last three years, only a little less than two of them during which Scott and Allison had been together, Stiles had gotten used to being a third wheel. He liked hanging out with Allison, and he definitely liked hanging out with Scott, but if they were all sleeping together, Stiles couldn't be shunted off as the "sometimes" person, or however that worked. If he couldn't have sleeping all curled up together in the same bed night after night after night, Stiles didn't want any of it. His heart couldn't take it.

Because when he thought about waking up between the two of them, feeling safe and loved and _in love_ , it was only a dream. Reality was going to break his heart, and Stiles would rather get it over with sooner rather than later, thanks.

Eventually, they sent the Sheriff after him. Dad came up to Stiles' room. "You've been up here awhile, kiddo. Scott's worried about you."

"Oh. You talked to him?" Stiles pretended to find the book of spells on his desk intensely interesting.

"Yes." Dad came into the room and closed the book on Stiles' fingers. "You two haven't gone longer than 24 hours without talking to each other since you met. What's going on?"

Sighing, Stiles pulled his fingers out of the book and leaned back in his chair. "I don't think you want to know."

Dad shrugged. "You're probably right, but humor me. This trip of yours? What happened?"

How was Stiles supposed to tell his father that he'd had a threesome with his best friend and one of his other best friends and instead of it being just one of those things that happens, Stiles was pretty sure it was going to break his heart? Stiles wrapped his arms around himself. "I ruined everything. I mean, I went there to do what needed to be done and I did it, but I did some other stuff too, and I'm afraid Scott's mad at me because of it."

"Scott gets mad at you all the time," Dad pointed out, sitting down on Stiles' bed. "Why is this any different? What, did you sleep with his girlfriend or something?"

Stiles very deliberately did not answer the question, sliding his gaze away from his father's.

"Stiles!" Dad cried, sitting forward and letting his head fall into his hands. "Son, how could you do that? To your best friend? I didn't raise you to— to—" "Well, I couldn't help it!" Stiles cried. "They were both egging me on!"

Dad looked up at Stiles for a brief moment before dropping his head again. He groaned, "Both? Jesus, Stiles, don't you think your life is exciting enough without—" Cutting himself off, Dad took another deep breath. As he let it out, he stood up and said, "Alright. You're going to go talk to Scott, right now. Get this cleared up." He grabbed Stiles' arm and pulled him to his feet, like some sort of child.

"I'm eighteen now, dad. I graduated. You can't _make_ me do anything!"

"I can make you move out. I know you wanted to wait a year before college. How does heading off to school this year sound?"

"A lot better than before," Stiles replied, pulling his arm out of Dad's grasp. "But _fine_. I'll go talk to Scott. I don't even know why you care so much."

"Hey," Dad complained softly, leaning to the side to catch Stiles' gaze. "You're my son. Of course I care. I don't need any of the _details_ , but I care."

Stiles smiled. "Thanks, Dad. But you should know, if I don't come back, it's probably because Scott killed me."

"Top of the suspect list. Got it." Dad grinned wryly, which made Stiles chuckle. 

Then he left before he could lose his nerve.

On the way over to Scott's house, Stiles almost turned back at least ten times. It wasn't even that long of a drive. Stiles kept his resolve, though, either out of some desire not to upset his dad, or maybe even wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Allison's car in the McCall driveway almost scared Stiles away, but he noticed Scott's neighbor, Mrs. Pauline, watching from her front garden. Well, he couldn't exactly chicken out now. Mrs. Pauline would tell Melissa he'd been acting weird and Scott would find out.

He told himself that he was just building this up too far in his head. Scott had been his best friend forever. Plus, Stiles had stuck with him during the whole werewolf thing. Maybe Scott would stick with Stiles during the whole we–sort–of–had–sex–thing. Yeah. Scott was a good guy. The best guy Stiles knew. Everything would be fine.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles got out of his car and meandered up to the front door. He was building up steam, okay? Before he even got halfway to the door, it opened and Scott came barrelling out. Allison followed closely on his heels.

Stiles froze, watching both of them hurry toward him. Scott stopped a few paces away, but Allison came right up to Stiles, grabbing his jacket in one of her hands.

"Uh. Hey?"

Allison shook Stiles a little and cried, "What the hell, Stiles? Why did it take you four days to come talk to either of us?"

"I know, alright?" Stiles eyed Allison's fingers on his jacket, but she didn't loosen them. "I know you guys wanna make sure I don't, like, read too much into this. That everything goes back to normal. But I guess I just wanted to pretend for a few days. Alright?"

Allison gave a high pitched scoff and looked back at Scott. Stiles followed her gaze and found that Scott was smiling. "Really?" he asked through his grin.

"What?" Stiles could honestly say he had no idea what was happening here. "Scott, what?"

Scott closed the distance between them, his hand slipping behind Stiles' head. Before Stiles knew what was going on, Scott's lips were on his. Wait, Stiles was being kissed! Scott was kissing him! 

Scott pulled back, and Stiles opened his mouth, fumbling for the words to ask what the hell, but before he'd even opened his eyes, another pair of lips pressed against his. "Mmpf," Stiles said into Allison's mouth.

When Allison pulled back, she grinned at him. "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agreed, letting himself gingerly circle her waist with his arm. "Someone explain _why_ I'm an idiot?"

"You _abandoned_ us," Allison insisted.

Scott squeezed the back of Stiles' neck. "I mean, if you needed some time, you should have just told us that."

"[We talked about it, Stiles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1066419)," Allison added, squeezing herself sort of between the two of them. "If you want us, we…" She met Scott's eyes and smiled before looking back at Stiles. "We want you."

"We _love_ you, dude," Scott added, kissing Stiles on the temple.

"You…" Stiles' thoughts blew past before he could consciously identify them. "What the…? I'm so confused."

"Well, Dave and Scott and Allison were married," Allison said, lacing her fingers with Stiles' and leaning back against Scott's chest. "Why can't _Stiles_ and Scott and Allison try dating?"

"Because it's _weird_!" Stiles cried, but he didn't pull away. He liked how Allison's fingers fit in his and the way Scott's hand felt on his neck. 

"Dude, I'm a freakin' _werewolf_. Allison is freakishly lethal." Allison looked over her shoulder at Scott and shrugged smugly. "And you can turn people to stone. And you're saying _this_ is weird."

"Okay," Stiles nodded. "Point taken." He paused, his mind finally slowing down to the point where he could actually understand his own thoughts. He imagined staying with them for as long as the Monroes had been together. Would it be mostly him and Scott sharing Allison, like it appeared to be with Bruce and his wives? Or would it be more equal? Could Stiles do more than kiss Scott? "We might have some details to hammer out, but…"

"But, yes?" Scott asked, his smile wide and expectant. Allison bounced on the balls of her feet and pressed a quick kiss against Stiles' mouth.

"Yeah," Stiles answered, wrapping his arms as tightly around both of them as he could. "Yeah, let's do this."

Allison squealed and Scott giggled, though Stiles was sure he wouldn't admit it later. After a few more kisses, Scott pulled back, his eyes over Stiles' shoulder. "Maybe we should take the celebration inside, though."

"Mrs. Pauline?" Allison asked, tilting to the side so she could see around Stiles.

Stiles turned to look as well. "Mrs. Pauline."

As they tumbled toward the house, hand-in-hand-in-hand, Stiles said, "Hey, d'you guys think our 'intense sexual bond' will give me crazy super powers now that it's actually real? Like, will I be able to control the weather? Or maybe I could mind control the whole town!"

"We've created a monster," Allison said to Scott, chuckling as she pinched Stiles' side.

Scott grinned and opened the door. "Maybe we'll have to keep you busy enough that you won't be able to make trouble."

"I'm totally okay with that," Stiles replied, letting Allison into the house ahead of him. He pulled the door shut and took a deep breath. This was his life now, wasn't it? Stiles grinned.

[Art Masterpost](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1052453)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Covers for All My Loves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303071) by [sam007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam007/pseuds/sam007)




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